Trees of the city
prepared bubbly baths.
Rain was coming,
the door was ajar.

.

.

Stormy footsteps were heard
Down the unused street
It walked strking its cane
Little children stood round the corner
With sweaty brows and glittering eyes
For the Rain was coming
Down the unused street

.

.

Baadal garaj ker barsay
Aur ek muhaweray ka mun
Kaala ker diya.

.

.

The rain danced at dawn,
morning was a white night
the sun, killed in sleep, lay dying,
waiting for a prince’s kiss

.

.

The rain came chanting
a glorious song of hope:
‘despair not of Lord’s mercy
O heart, your lands are not barren
your womb not childless’